Corruption
by Cgaume12
Summary: A oneshot detailing an event that occurs a few months before Rising.


**Corruption**

**This is a oneshot that would occur soon before the begining of Rising.  
****I am thinking of replacing my Prologue with this because I can tell from the statistics that people read the first 2-3 chapters and quit.  
****If you review please give me your opinion on this, as it actually does matter.**

* * *

The beginning of this day is the same as many that have come before it. Spyro wakes up as the sun began to drizzle it's warm rays over the horizon. Cynder, his mate, remains sleeping as he gets up and quietly creeps from the room.

_'Don't want her to wake up just yet.'_ he thinks,_ 'If she does it'll be all political talk, which doesn't rank very high among my priorities.'_

He skips eating as it would only delay his enjoyment of a predawn flight. He takes to the skies and is soon flying his usual route above the city's landmarks. Eventually he arrives at the battlements upon which he had helped to repel Malefor's forces. The charred and battered wall remains unchanged, a memorial to all who had gave their lives to stopping the Dark Master.

'Those memories, they are the one thing in which I can affirm that I chose the right path.' he thinks as he pays homage to the fallen.

By this time his hunger has grown and he decides to make his way homeward. When he arrives he finds Cyril standing under the canopy of the porch.

" I hope he returns soon, Volteer might not hold out more than a day or two." Cyril says, his face laden with grave concern.

"I'm here Cyril. What happened to Volteer?"

"Well, Spyro, yesterday evening there was something wrong with his breathing. As of this morning, well let's just say things are not looking up for Volteer."

"Oh no, how likely is it that he could pull through?."

"Not very high, Spyro. That's why I am here, to ask you to accompany me to retrieve the next in line for electric guardian."

"Well, I guess I'd be glad to come. Business has been slow since IoTD released that...telluphone, and now everyone uses it rather than sending messages. Plus, I could use a change of scenery."

"Very good, we can set out immediately."

"Actually, I haven't eaten so come on in and I'll grab something, I think we have some of last night's dinner in the cooling box." Spyro opened the door and he and Cyril entered. Cynder is just coming down the hallway from the bedroom.

"Hello Cyril, what brings you here so early? I haven't seen you in over a year." Cynder says. Spyro ignores her so that Cyril can answer and makes his way into the kitchen.

"Dear old Volteer is having some problems and we don't think he will make it much longer. I came to ask Spyro to join me in seeking the new electric guardian in the town south of Avalar."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I never really got to know Volteer that well, but I know he had a great impact on a lot of dragons. He could still get better right?" she said.

When Spyro opens the cooling box the smell of meat wafts into his nostrils, further fueling his appetite. He removes a duck leg from the cooling box revealing the label on the inside which shows a set of goggles with "IoTD" printed over it.

'Ugh, IoTD. How ironic that they not only keep my food cold but they also help to lessen my workload, permanently.' he slams down the lid and breathes a light jet of fire onto the meat before ravenously devouring it.

"Alright, I'm ready. Goodbye Cynder, I'll be back when I can." he puts and arm around Cynder and lightly kisses her a few times.

"Goodbye Hun, don't enjoy yourself too much."

* * *

"Spyro, the sun is beginning to set, we should rest for the night. Those trees to the west look as though they would provide good shelter."

The two dragons turn toward the grove on the west side of the Silver river. Further to the south the light of fires in a cheetah village shine against the darkening sky. As night falls the fires are put out, save those of the watchmen, and Spyro and Cyril have a fire of their own going. Upon which they warm a bit of their provisional food.

"Without Volteer, I would have been bested that day. Ah, so many fond memories still do not ease the hurt of how he will soon be lost to us."

"Don't worry Cyril, I was once told by a very wise dragon that when a dragon dies his spirit still lives on. Even after Volteer is gone he will still be with us even when we don't see it."

"Yes, I know this. It still does not set my mind at ease. Anyway, we should probably get some rest we covered a good distance today but there is still a ways to go."

The fire slowly dies as the dragons lie down for the night. Spyro lies his head upon his paws and stares off into the river. The reflection of clouds rolling past the bright half-moon slowly lull his tired body towards sleep. Spyro soon shuts his eyes and waits for the cold grip of sleep to overcome him. Then a screech resounds through the small forest. Spyro immediately leaps to his feet. His eyes dart back and forth across the edges of the forest.

"Cyril, wake up! Be on your guard."

Cyril's eyes snap open. He rises from the ground as though sudden movement might trigger a trap. He warily scans the forest before saying, "What is it? I don't hear anything and I can't see very well in this light."

"I'm not sure Cyril, it's been a long time but I think it was an ape and when there is one there are more."

About fifteen apes assemble in the trees around the grove, some hiss at the dragons while others turn their weapons in their hands. The alpha male then appears among the others. Spyro twitches his nostrils at the overbearing scent he secretes. The alpha examines the intruders to his territory, sizing up his odds. None of this matters as he knows whether told to or not his small band of warriors would attack relentlessly. They would fight till the last breath and sometimes beyond that. So he ordered an attack, wanting to get it over with. As the warriors rush toward the two dragons he retreats back into the forest so that he might continue his reign either way.

Both dragons assume a fighting stance as the silhouettes jump from the trees, weapons drawn. The apes ,in their vast intelligence, all bunch together as they advance towards the dragons. Each one lining up for his funeral.

From the beginning Spyro sees that this will be an easy fight. These apes have not been trained to fight dragons like those once commanded by Cynder. They were only accustomed to killing each other and therefore very poorly equipped. The first one who rushed at him was met with a jet of flame which ignited his hand-crafted wooden sword which he then threw backwards onto those grouped behind him. Spyro chuckles for a moment before the apes regains a bit of composure and rushes him again, unarmed. This time around Spyro sticks out his long foreleg and crushes the ape's skull into the ground. Satisfied by his first kill Spyro returns his attention to the larger part of the group and sees Cyril also has removed a few of the apes.

_'Even as he ages he still has a tenacity. I hope I end up that way.'_ he thinks. He then roars "Who's next?"

Immediately he is answered by three apes slowly making their way toward him. Each holds a spear with a stone tip and wooden shaft and a poorly carved round shield made of wood. They hold the spears in front of them, attempting to make him keep his distance until they decided to strike. However this luxury was taken away as Spyro shot another burst of fire setting their shields alight and causing them to discard their weapons. They jump back and look up only to be sent flying through several trees until being embedded in a boulder a short distance away.

'_Four down and... seven to go, wow Cyril's been at it.'_

Three more apes then fall as shards of ice from both dragons hit their mark and cu the force down to four. Spyro decides he should have a little fun with one of them and so he charges straight towards one, expecting another easy kill. When he is less than a yard away the ape sidesteps and Spyro nearly hits the tree in front of him. Before he regains control the ape swings his large but simple metal sword, grazing the side of his head. Spyro turns toward the ape and before he even lets off the fire he was gathering the ape has flipped up into a tree and slashes at his tail. Spyro whirls around again only to slam his head into the tree he had almost charged into. He finishes his revolution once he recovers. The ape is pouring a liquid into a pouch which then starts to bubble and fizz. At the same time Spyro sees Cyril, he is leaping through the air behind the ape.

"Stop Cyril! Don't jump on him!" Cyril lands his front paws upon the apes shoulders and he crumples to the ground, mixture still in hand.

"What? I don't see what's-"

"Get off of him! He has an-"

Spyro's instincts cause him to wrap his wings around him at the sound of the explosion rips through the clearing. A chunk of flesh lies at his feet when the light dies away and he uncovers his eyes

"Cyril!" His companion is collapsed on the ground, lying lopsided with his right side sitting slightly above the left. He looks again at the flesh before him. It is badly maimed but is covered in blue scales, the blood that once flowed through it now drains slowly through the severed veins, forming a crimson lake.

He advances quickly but warily toward Cyril, fearing what might happen if a second blast went off.

"Cyril! Are you alright? Can you speak?"

Cyril grunts softly, and opens his eyes his face contorted with anguish. "Yes, Spyro I can do that much."

"Good, I thought I had lost you too. I don't know what I would have done." he breathes a sigh and lowers his head, "I need to look at your wounds."

"Of course, just, ah, be gentle"

"I always have, Cyril." Spyro approaches the elder dragon and looks over what happened. His wings were intact besides slight tears and his back and tail escaped unscathed. He sat lopsided as a great portion of one leg and the bottom of the other had been torn from him. "Are you able to roll onto your side, I need to see how bad underneath looks."

"I can try." the dragon uses his back legs to push himself over onto his side, revealing his now nonexistent underside. Small bits of flesh and muscle hang from his exposed ribs and flutter in the wind, bits of ape fur stick to the bloodied dragons wounds. When the pressure of his body is removed he begins to bleed profusely.

Spyro stretches his head toward Cyril's exposed underside, making note of which bones were exposed and how fast his heart was pumping. The task is only more difficult with the blow he took from the ape, and soon the sight of his insides began to repulse him.

"Alright Cyril, if you could, um, turn back over."

"I don't think I could on my, ugh, own Spyro. I need your assistance."

"Right."

He makes his way around Cyril, meticulously avoid the chunks of ape and dragon flesh that litter the area. He props Cyril's body upwards until the ice dragon balances himself with his hind legs.

"Cyril, there was a cheetah village to the south, I'm going to see if I can get something to wrap your wounds in. If they have any herbs that might help I'll bring some too."

"Fine, young dragon, I will try to stay here. If I get restless I'll just go for a little walk."

"Great, I'll be back as fast as I can."

Spyro takes off into the air and heads south following the river. He looks down at the river, hoping to calm his nerves and sees a liquid dripping from somewhere on him. After a few moments he becomes lightheaded. He ignores the feeling and continues on his path to the cheetah village.

"Hello dragon," the gate sentry says, "what can I do for you this late at night?"

"My companion was hurt in blast from some ape mixture. Does your village have a healer of some sort?"

"That's what happened in the ape territory! We thought they were fighting amongst themselves again. Here, come with me to the healer, she should be able to help you."

They walk at a steady pace through the small village. As they advance into the deeper part of the village, window shutters turn into flaps of cloth, simple patios into dirt yards.

_'Just like Warfang. Two different standards of living.' _Spyro thinks.

Eventually they approach a large hut set in a tree far back into the village. It's conical roof ends in a chimney that puts out a steady stream of gray smoke. The sentry knocks on the door and awaits a response. After a few moments he tries again.

"Hold on!" a female voice shouts from within. It then mutters, "I'm old! Do they expect me to be able to just prance around like I was fifty again? Can't even brew a potion with being interrupted." a frail, elderly cheetah woman opens the door. "What's so important that- oh, a dragon! I see, I see. Go ahead back to your post I'll take care of him."

The sentry nods and slowly backs off of the porch with his head low. The elderly cheetah beckons Spyro inside so he ducks down and slips through the door.

"So what might I do for you," she surveys Spyro, examining his features, "young dragon?"

"My comrade, Cyril, was hurt by some apes-"

"Ah, a blast no doubt?" the cheetah places some herbs and bones into a large pot sitting on a fire.

"Um, yeah. Anyway he pounced on the ape right as he mixed it and now he-"

"Lost a leg or two, had most of his chest blown off and probably isn't enjoying seeing inside himself. Yes, I've seen this before." she grips a large spoon and slowly turns her concoction, adding a few more ingredients as she goes.

"Well, is there something you can do for him?"

"No." she says as she begins ladling the liquid into vials.

Spyro lowers his eye ridge, "No?"

"No." she caps the vials and pours the remaining liquid into another pot. "I cannot do anything for him because it would take me days to reach him. You, however can do something."

"Oh, I...see. Would you tell me what I can do?"

"Patience! So little patience in these young people, _'Would you tell me what I can do?'_, _'No, I can't tell you, I'm only a healer.'_, Gracious!"

The cheetah goes into a back room and returns with some long, mesh strips. She places two vials of liquid into a satchel with the strips and walks toward Spyro.

"Make sure there isn't anything foreign in the wounds, grass, flesh that shouldn't be there, anything. Then wrap them tightly with the strips, it'll hurt but will definitely be worth it at the end. He won't be able to walk, ever, but at least he'll live," She places the satchel around Spyro's neck and whispers, "and make sure you take care of the side of your head too."

"Alright thanks. I should get back, I've been gone a while and he needs to be taken care of soon."

"Yes, yes. Go on, leave an old healer to her work."

Spyro slips through the door soars off into the night. The flight back to the grove is smooth, though as he approaches the grove he once again becomes lightheaded and his minor headache becomes a blatent alarm inside his head. Soon he lands several feet from where Cyril lies sleeping.

"Cyril! Wake up, you need to be treated."

Cyril opens his eyes, now rimmed in red, and groggily speaks. "Wha, oh Spyro. Good you're back. I was just having a conversation with Ignitus about when we can meet for tea. You should come along too!"

"Cyril we need to treat your wounds, I'm going to turn you on your side again."

"Whatever you say young dragon, as long as I can make it to tea."

"You must have been dreaming, or hallucinating. I really need to get you patched up."

Spyro gently uses his head to push Cyril onto his side. He looks at the wounds again and gently pulls the ape fur from Cyril's wounds. Occasionally Cyril yelps or winces but Spyro ignores this and soldiers through cleaning and wrapping Cyril's grievous lacerations. Soon he is finished and helps to right Cyril again.

"Alright you should be good. The healer says you won't walk again but you should live. Tomorrow I will head back to the temple and retrieve Terrador, the two of us should be able carry you back to the temple."

"No! I need to stay here! Ignitus and I must have tea tomorrow evening!"

"Okay Cyril, you might want to have some rest if you are having tea with Ignitus right?"

"Right, young dragon. If you feel so then why must you continually disturb me?"

"I apologize. You can sleep, I'll stand guard all night for you."

Within minutes both dragons fall into a deep slumber, allowing calm dreaming to wash away the pain.

* * *

Spyro snaps awake as the first rays of dawn reach his eyelids. With legs like lead and wings weighed down by fatigue he slowly rises from where he had passed out in the night. The supply bag which had been around Cyril's neck is no where to be found. Spyro hobbles to where Cyril lies in his slumber.

_'He seems to be doing well, I should find us something to eat before he wakes up.'_

Spyro walks a while into the grove before spotting two well-muscled deer. Their ears perk as he approaches,but by the time they start to run Spyro has already acted. Their hearts stop as his electric current runs through them. He lifts his kills in his maw and makes his way toward the rumble of the Silver river. The closer he gets, the greater his headache returns. Soon weakens, walking becomes a chore and he can hardly keep his eyes open. His front legs collapse under him and he gives in to numb unconsciousness.

Spyro slowly lifts his eyelids, the sun shines directly above him. He looks down to reassure himself he still has his legs and then attempts to raise himself from the ground.

_'What's wrong with me? I can't feel my front legs...and I can barely breathe...'_

Spyro pulls himself onto all four legs, doing his best to maintain balance. He often stumbles over his deathly numb front half but eventually can see Cyril lying in the grove. At his approach Cyril turns his head toward Spyro.

"Ah, young dragon, you brought meat for Ignitus and I?"

He sets the deer on the ground and pushes one over to Cyril, "No, Cyril. It's for you and me. How are you feeling?"

"Fine." Cyril responds. He leans his head down to bite into the deer and Spyro winces.

"Okay, how is your breathing?" Cyril lifts his head quickly and Spyro winces once again.

"Good."

"I'm going to have to wait until tomorrow to get Terrador out here, it's past noon and we wouldn't get back 'til dark"

"Whatever." Cyril swallows more of the deer.

Cyril's face shrivels and Spyro feels a burning sensation in his throat, before he says anything about it, Cyril vacates his stomach contents onto the ground and the burning vanishes.

"Cyril! Do you need water?" Cyril nods in response.

Spyro guts the deer he was eating and removes it's stomach. Emptying it of it's contents he carries it to the river. He dips it into the flowing water and watches trails of blood and other fluids flow with the current. He walks back up toward the grove and his heart begins to burn like it has been thrown into a bonfire. He goes to Cyril and holds the makeshift water container to his lips, he takes a long draught and Spyro's burning eases off.

_'What's with me today? That blast must have done something to my insides.' _Spyro thinks.

"Thank you, young dragon." Cyril says, "I felt like I was on fire and for an ice dragon I am sure this isn't a good feeling."

"Right."

"I am tired once again young dragon, if you could tell Ignitus I give him my regards," Cyril pauses and lets out a long yawn causing the muscles on the back of Spyro's neck to prickle, "I would like to rest." Cyril quickly drifts off to sleep and the numbness in Spyro's legs fades away.

_'Today has been strange already. I should rest too. If I feel like I have how am I to bring Terrador here.'_

* * *

A familiar feeling awakens Spyro, the light of dawn is rising from above the mountains. He slowly stands and finds the numbness has not returned.

_'Good, once Cyril wakes and I know he's okay I can set out for the temple'_

He once again makes his way down to the river to drink, he laps slowly at the water. His reflection stares back up at him with bloodshot eyes.

_'I can't wait to get back and sleep in a bed again. I deserve better than the ground.' _he pauses in his thoughts for a moment, _'Cyril can never use a bed again, or walk, or anything. I bet he'd prefer death to living his short time paralyzed. Maybe I should grant him that...What am I thinking, I could never do that! I'd never do that.' _he swings a paw at his reflection and turns back toward the east.

As he traverses the distance to the grove, he experiences a growing soreness and the prickling needles of pain throughout his body. Despite this he reaches the grove and Cyril lies on his side. He is thrashing his back legs attempting to right himself, his tail flails about like a fish with no water.

"Cyril! Calm down! I'll help you just stop, you don't need to be hurt more!" Spyro runs as best he can toward Cyril.

"Get off of me! Leave me alone!" Cyril lashes out toward Spyro with a cobra-like striking motion.

"I need to help you get up before you hurt yourself more Cyril!"

"No! Leave me alone!" Cyril swings at Spyro again.

Spyro launches a bolt of electricity into Cyril who shakes uncontrollably for a few moments and becomes still.

_'He's stopped.'_ he thinks.

However, a shadow then descends into his mind, remaining there for a brief moment as images of Cyril's past and present flash through his consciousness. It then flows swiftly through him before dissappearing into nothingness Soon it passes and Spyro slowly approaches Cyril's limp body. He listens for his breathing and heartbeat through the bandages and there is none.

_'I...killed...him.'_

* * *

Spyro descends upon the balcony of the temple soon after sunset. His eyes still welling with tears as they had the whole time he prepared a funeral pyre for Cyril and proceeded to ignite it. He walks into the temple, looking for Terrador and Flare, the new fire guardian, to inform them of what transpired.

"Hello! Is anyone here?" Spyro says. He sniffles and continues down the corridor.

"Spyro?" Terrador shouts, "You are back?"

He opens the door of his study and walks into the hall. He is disheartened when he sees Spyro's tears and the lack of his would-be-companions.

"Come, Spyro," he says with a sigh, "I guess you must have a story to tell."

"... so I wrapped him up according to her instructions but, he didn't survive the night. I built a pyre yesterday and spent all of today flying here. Occasionally I had to stop and rest because of my grief."

"I understand, young dragon." Terrador replies, "I know you have just returned, but unfortunately as both of us must stay here with those in our care you must retrieve the new electric and ice guardians. The electric guardian has been waiting so you must set out again tomorrow if possible."

"Alright," Spyro says with a sigh, "I just need to rest tonight."

"Of course, Spyro." Flare says, "You can head on home and come back in the morning."

"Actually, I would rather stay here. I don't know if I could make it home."

"Sure, the room you once stayed in is vacant."

"Thank you, Good night, Terrador, Flare."

Spyro makes his way down the hall again, opening the door that once belonged to him. Looking over to the bed he thinks, _'Hmm, a little small, but at least it's a bed.'_

* * *

Cynder looks out from the wall of the city. The once bright blue sky slowly fading into hues of yellow and pink. She sighs and looks down at her marginally swollen stomach.

_'I'm almost glad I haven't seen Spyro in a month but... I still wonder where he is.'_

As though the ancestors were answering her prayers she turns to find Terrador slowly descending towards her.

"Oh, hello Terrador, what can I do for you?"

"I have been looking for you for the past few days. I needed to let you know that something happened to Cyril and because of that Spyro will be gone for about a month more than expected."

"You're telling me this a month after he leaves?"

"Well, I'm sorry. We' ve been busy and neither Flare nor myself have had time with our work and training Circuit in his duties as a Guardian."

"Sure, I understand." Cynder looks at Terrador and follows his gaze. Her eyes come to rest on her own, gravid stomach.

"I didn't know you and Spyro were having another child. That's wonderful."

"Yes, isn't it? But Spyro, well, doesn't know yet because I haven't seen him since the day I became gravid." Cynder says, he tail flicks back and forth defensively

"Oh, well I'll be sure to tell him for you when he comes back."

Cynder grits her teeth, "Great, well I need to be somewhere so, I'll see you later."

"Alright, I think I'll stay a little longer. The sunset always helps me to think."

Cynder takes off into the air, she goes off a bit and swoops back around, silently approaching Terrador. She forms a ball of wind in her maw and releases it just as Terrador turns to face her. His eyes widen and he is pushed off of the wall by the rushing air. He hangs on for dear life barely maintaining a grip on the side of the wall.

"I'm sorry Terrador. I can't have anyone knowing about my being gravid. It's not Spyro's child."

She stomps her claws onto his forepaws while releasing the power of fear into him. He curls into a ball and is skewered by the spiked braie below. He looks up to Cynder one final time.

_'Why?'_ he thinks as he allows himself to slip into the cold, unforgiving hands of death.


End file.
